


Left Behind

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-26
Updated: 2006-03-26
Packaged: 2019-02-02 04:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12719751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Caught between a rock and a hard place, Jack is forced to make a choice.





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

"Do it, Jack." he tells me, damp hair matted to his forehead, blue eyes dark and determined as he holds my gaze. I jerk away and he grabs my wrist with his good hand, refusing to let go. "Please," he rasps, coughing, "Just... do it." 

And oh, it's so funny... how the littlest things can bring you back. Machine gun fire, no problem. The screams of dying men, piece of pie... piece of cake. But, for god's sake, don't say those three little words. Not in that tone. Not while you're looking at me like... that.

'Do it, Jack.'

He's barely gotten the words out of his mouth before I find myself back in that room, the press of torn flesh slick under my hands and the rancid stench of a septic wound sour in the air. I'd known what I had to do then, just like I know what I have to do now. The only difference is, this time, I'm not sure if I can bring myself to go through with it. Not again. Not with this man. Please, god, not with this man...

You know that saying: "Time heals all wounds?" Well, whoever thought that up should be dragged out into the street and shot.

By me. 

Multiple times.

'Do it, Jack.'

It had been years ago. Before Charlie died. Before the Stargate. Before a wide-eyed, long-haired geek wandered into my life and reminded me that I still had a life for him to wander into. I'd been part of a special ops mission, sabotaging an ammo dump under enemy control in Kuwait. We were halfway through planting a house of C-4s when the enemy pulled an alpha bravo in our line of retreat. The team pulled out, and I fell back to give them some cover, taking a bullet to my left shoulder in the process. It barely grazed me, but the force of the hit threw me backwards, the back of my skull slamming violently against a concrete beam. I dropped my gun and went down hard. I think I may have even blacked out for a moment. I was too stunned to move. To even breathe. Then, I slowly turned my head, catching a glimpse of my team's retreating backs as they moved out of sight, escaping through an exit in the back.

I wasn't that lucky.

I didn't even get the chance to get back on my feet before I was dragged off to some goddamn Iraqi cage. They interrogated me for a while, threw a couple punches, put a few cigarettes out on my arms before they realized I wasn't talking. Then they'd tossed me into a dirty room and locked the door.

That's where I met Tom.

Tom Mackey was the exception to every rule in the book. Half-delirious, his pants dried to his skin with puss and the syrupy trickle of blood stealing out from his thigh, but still Mackey never prayed. Because it wasn't right, he said, to only believe in God when you needed him. It wouldn't be fair.

Listening to him rasp about fairness from the corner of a dark, musty prison, I decided that there was no one else like him. No one quite that crazy. No one quite that honorable. Now, looking down at Daniel, I realize I was wrong. 

And I can't help but wonder why I've never seen it before.

"Do it, Jack." Daniel tells me again, stroking my palm and turning it over, lacing our fingers together. Squeezing my hand to let me know that he understands. "You know you don't have a choice."

'Do it, Jack.'

Tom understood too. He'd come back one day from the usual round of grilling with a gash in his leg so deep that the leg of his dessert BDU's was crimson. He never said anything, never explained. He'd just looked up at me with those soft brown eyes, telling me without words what we both knew - that it was only a matter of time.

Only a matter of time before a wound became an infected wound. Only a matter of time before he was so sick that he was shivering constantly, screaming because the motion jolted his leg. There was no medicine to treat him with. There was no knife to sever the leg. In a few days, he was reduced to nothing more than a bargaining chip, a clever way to make me talk. 'Tell us, and we'll help your friend,' they'd taunted, 'Tell and you can save him.'

I stuck to name, rank, and serial number.

Tom paid the price.

'Do it, Jack.'

'No man gets left behind.' That's the first thing they'll tell you when you join the military. First day, the Brass ropes in every wet-behind the ears throttle-jockey they can find and emphasizes the point, stroking you up like a prized poodle and guaranteeing a big brother to always pull your ass out of the fire. But that sort of promise doesn't mean dick when a deadly infection is spreading upwards along your buddy's leg, red, angry stripes running up from his thigh to his stomach, teasing the base of his emaciated ribs.

I told him they'd come. Hell, they did come, eventually.... just not soon enough. Barely a week from the time he'd been injured, and some minor inflammation had already turned into gangrene. By then, his tongue was so swollen that he could barely talk, so I pretty much gave up on two-sided conversation and concentrated on wiping the sweat off his forehead instead, trying to keep him comfortable. My tongue however, was just fine, so I started talking and just kept going; speaking until I was hoarse. I told him stories about Charlie and Sara. Recapped all the movies I'd ever seen and described every constellation I could remember. Finally, I told him about Minnesota, promising to take him fishing, once we were free. Trying to remind him that, somewhere, places still had water. Assuring him that he'd get a chance to see them again, because 'no man gets left behind.' 

But, real life doesn't have happy endings like that. 

Eventually, he'd cut me off. Squeezed and tugged on my hand like an impatient little kid until I'd finally met his eyes. I'd struggled, at first, trying to act as if I didn't know what he wanted. To pretend that I wouldn't give it to him. He'd only smiled at me, a sweet, knowing little smile... and slowly closed his eyes. 

'Do it, Jack,' he'd whispered, 'Just... do it.'

Asking me to let him die with dignity. To give him the power to pass on while he was still lucid enough to remember the wife he was leaving behind.

'Do it, Jack.'

Because help wasn't coming.

No one was coming.

So...I killed him.

Snapped his neck. Felt it break and loll limply in my hand, heavy, but somehow weightless... like a dead bird. It had been quick, I'd told myself. There had been no pain. Tom had died with a 'thank you' on his lips and a smile on his face. 

No big deal. Just one more soldier who never made it home. It had been a mercy, really.

Of course, I've never quite finished hating myself for it. Never stopped wondering if, maybe, Tom was the reason why, later, someone up there took my son.

An eye for an eye, after all. If there's one thing I understand, it's blood for blood.

Daniel brings me back by rubbing his thumb over my hand. I sigh, grinding my teeth painfully. God, but I want to jump up and rale at the fates. 

'Here I am! Here I am, again! Right back here... again.' 

Would screaming help, or would it only freak out Daniel?

'Do it, Jack.' 

Oh, he doesn't want me to kill him, of course. No, he would never ask me to do that. All he wants is for me to abandon him. Hell, it's not like I've never done it before. And he is half buried under a pile of big, heavy rocks, after all. I can't dig him out - tried that already, without success. He's stuck, and there's a herd of grouchy Jaffa about five minutes away from stepping on our toes. Or my toes, actually. Daniel's are trapped under rocks. Which is sort of the whole problem, when you think about it. 

He cocks his head at me, encouraging me to go. To hurry up, before it's too late. What else can I do, but leave him? 

Absolutely nothing.

'Do it, Jack.'

I bow my head, breathing raggedly and tightening my grip on his hand until I feel him flinch. And, god help me, but something's snapped. Something's come loose, and I can't tuck it back in again, can't ignore it. And I don't care if it condemns both of us to death, but I'm not leaving him. The rest of the world can go to hell in a basket for all I care, but Daniel is staying with me.

I shudder, pressing my chin into my chest before slowly looking up again, staring straight upwards. It's night here, and the stars are so clear.... I'm not locked up in a stone box this time, bound and gagged without a window. I'm sitting in the grass, holding my friend's hand. And I won't leave this time. I won't do it! 

Because... this time, it's only my life on the line. My life, and his. 

And we're a package deal.

"No, Daniel," I tell him softly, "Not. This. Time."

Not ever again.

I can feel the protest rising in him, the anguish thrumming through his blood like a current, but I ignore it, impulsively swooping in and crushing our mouths together, frantically swallowing anything he might say. Anything that might convince me to leave. Hell if I know what possessed me. I've never kissed him before, never even kissed a man before... not in any way worth remembering, at least. But right now, it's what I need to do. And, damn, but it's good... He gives a muffled cry of surprise, and I drink it down, pressing into him until he responds. We're all tongues and teeth, fighting each other off and crawling down each other's throats at the same time. Blood, I can taste blood, but I don't care... because it's Daniel's... and because I know it's courtesy of the rock slide, and not me. For what it's worth, I can barely taste it over the heavy layers of heat and coffee. He feels too good, for me to care.

Finally, I pull back and meet furious blue eyes, sharing his panting breaths as I reach up, tracing wet, swollen lips with the ball of my thumb. His eyes fill up and he catches his bottom lip in his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed when I lift up his glasses and rub under each set of dark lashes. He pulls my hand down and presses it against his cheek, brushing his mouth over my knuckles again and again. He's still angry, so angry that he's shaking, so I stroke the resistance away... kissing and nipping his fingers... leaning in to cup his nape and nuzzle his temple...

...until... 

...finally... 

...he has to let it go. 

Because I'm not letting go.

And no one gets left behind.

"You know," he says after a long moment, his voice suspiciously thick, "Some people would find this sort of thing romantic. Facing down certain death, refusing to be parted by impossible odds... Why, the Ancient Greeks used to -"

"Yadda." I interrupt, because he expects me too. I smile softly, and shake my head. "Next, you'll be telling me about the ancient tribal rituals hidden in Casablanca." 

"Well..." he replies slyly, eyes twinkling. And, it's insane, but suddenly, we're smiling, grinning at each other like loons. We're both gonna die, and all I can think is -

'Only with Daniel.' 

Wouldn't have it any other way, Dannyboy. I wouldn't have it any other way. 

The sound of crunching foliage brings my head up, and I look over my shoulder, tightening my grip on his hand. A branch snaps and I whip back around, locking onto his wide blue eyes and refusing to break the connection, not even when a body bursts out of the trees right behind me. I tense, but don't look away, waiting for the staff blast to send me flying forward. Steeling myself for the pain. Daniel's mouth falls open, and suddenly, he's laughing, staring over my shoulder and almost giggling. I stare at him, too stunned to even breathe a word. I open my mouth, and -

\- "Sir?" a familiar voice queries from behind me. My eyes go huge and I blink, turning stiffly around.

"Carter." I confirm dumbly. How I manage not to fall flat on my face in shock, I'll never know, but somehow I keep vertical, settling for a blank stare instead. Relief floods her expression and she falls to her knees, hastily beginning a renewed attempt to dig Daniel out. Teal'c appears a heartbeat later, dropping to her side and joining in. Daniel watches them for a long moment before slowly looking up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I swallow hard and shake my head to clear it, getting my ass in gear and pitching in. 

"Hang on, Daniel." I tell him, because if I don't say something, then I know I'll do something unforgivably stupid. Like kiss him. Or cry. He nods and I lean forward, putting my freaking back into it and try to heft a boulder off the area where his chest should be. Teal'c takes the other side and together we roll it off, immediately moving on to the next obstacle. I push away another rock, grabbing handfuls of smaller stones and flinging them off into the woods. I don't have time to be stylish - although, if anyone can make chucking pebbles chic, it's me. Carter huffs loudly and a small avalanche rolls of Daniel's legs, revealing his boots. He grunts softly and shifts upwards, wincing. Camouflage fabric is peeking out from between the stones already. Thank god. I can hear the Jaffa closing in, but it's ok now. Because someone came back this time. Just like I should have known they would. 

Teal'c hefts off another boulder and throws it out of the way, leaning down and abruptly hauling Daniel backwards. Daniel hisses but comes free, looping an arm around Teal'c's neck. A staff blast screams through the air and suddenly hits the tree over my head, the bark flying off in burning chunks. I curse and move my ass, throwing Daniel's other arm around my shoulders. Together; Teal'c and I burn rubber back to the Stargate, Carter pumping lead behind us. The ground explodes to our left and we lurch, holding on to Daniel by the skin of our teeth. I can feel him panting fiercely in my ear, blood splattering over my neck when he coughs. I put on an extra burst of speed, Teal'c getting the hint as he quickens his pace to match mine, Carter's presence a solid reassurance at my back as the Stargate rises slowly into view. 

And we fly.

We have a home to get back to, after all.


End file.
